


The Weeping Willow

by drarrymehome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarrymehome/pseuds/drarrymehome
Summary: It's a blazing hot summer in Scotland and Draco invites Harry out to the lake under the guise of saving a first year from being fed to the giant squid. Luckily for Draco, Harry knows that that's not what Draco really means.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 116





	The Weeping Willow

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [@dewitty1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeWitty1/profile) for a great prompt!

“Hey, Potter. POTTER!” Harry turned in the corridor on his way to Transfiguration. Draco was at the far end of the corridor, leaning languidly against the stone wall, his face cold and indifferent, as if he owned the place.

“I heard some of the fifth years were planning on throwing a first year into the lake before dinner to battle with the giant squid. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?” He smirked and wandered off. Harry almost laughed. Draco had developed this mildly amusing and weird way of inviting Harry places without openly doing so by pretending to taunt him.

Harry shook his head and walked into the classroom, wondering why Draco wanted to meet him by the lake of all places. Summer had hit Scotland unseasonably hard already, even though it was only mid-June, and Draco would surely not want to spend much time outside being as pale as he was. The temperature was rapidly climbing into the thirties and Professor McGonagall had been forced to relax their uniform code to account for the boiling hot castle. Harry had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and loosened his tie.

He took his seat next to Ron who looked violently red. “How the bloody hell am I supposed to survive this, Harry? It’s nucular!”

“Nuclear,” Harry corrected automatically, and winced when he realised how much he sounded like Hermione.

“Don’t you bloody start. I’m going to bed after this. I think all this sunlight is giving me a headache.” Harry thought that highly unlikely considering how much time Ron and been spending indoors, but it must be bad if he was prepared to skip dinner.

Transfiguration went on forever and Harry spent most of the class trying to think about what Draco wanted to say to him. Their friendship was less tentative than it had been, but Harry knew he had been holding back a lot. It was difficult to settle into a rhythm of friendship with Draco when Harry spent most their time together thinking about how beautiful Draco was. He didn’t really understand how it had happened but coming back for eighth year had suddenly meant he had time to actually _see_ things he had paid no attention to before.

Like the way Draco’s eyes subtly changed colour when he was happy or sad or angry. How he feigned cold aloofness while helping the first years with their Charms homework at the Slytherin table over breakfast. The way he always noticed when Draco entered a room or left it.

After an interminable length of time, they were dismissed from Transfiguration without Harry learning a thing and definitely not being able to turn water into wine. Everyone was so distracted by the sweltering heat of the castle that they didn’t even notice they hadn’t been given any homework. Harry certainly didn’t as he was busy darting out the door and running towards the Entrance Hall, ignoring Ron’s calls behind him.

When he stepped out the front doors, he was hit with a wall of heat completely uncharacteristic of Scotland. There were clusters of students taking shelter around the edges of the courtyard but beyond that the sprawling grass was still relatively quiet. He walked across the sloping green down to the lake and around the edge to the far side. There he sat near a large weeping willow, not to be confused with its whomping cousin. He sat just beyond the reaches of the tree’s branches so that he could feel the sun on his face. Draco wasn’t there yet, so Harry prepared himself to wait.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he started when a shadow appeared over his face. His eyes shot open to find Draco standing over him, his blond hair gleaming in the sunlight.

“Having a nice snooze?” He asked, lowering himself down next to Harry gracefully, so close that their shoulders bumped. Draco’s sleeves were still rolled down and fastened at his wrists. He must have been boiling, but Harry understood. He sat perfectly upright, tension thrumming in his muscles, and Harry wished he knew how to get Draco to relax.

“I was until you showed up and disturbed me,” he said petulantly, but he didn’t mean it. They didn’t say anything for a few minutes; just sat together and looked out over the lake towards the castle. The sun wasn’t as fierce as it had been when Harry first came out and he realised Draco had chosen this time specifically because it would be easier on his pale complexion.

It didn’t feel natural for them to sit side by side like that, so Harry got up and wandered to the base of the willow tree, gesturing for Draco to follow.

“Potter, what are you-” Harry settled with his back against the trees and held an arm out for Draco. The frown disappeared and a beautiful grin spread across Draco’s face, showing off his perfectly straight teeth. Draco glanced sideways at Harry as if asking for permission to move and Harry nodded. Something tight unfurled in Harry’s chest when Draco curled into Harry’s side and rested his head on Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped his arm around Draco’s waist and sighed when a feeling of peace settled over him. He cast a strong cooling charm over them so that they wouldn’t boil.

The weeping branches of the willow obscured them enough from view that Harry felt like they were the only two people in the world, and from here he didn’t have to worry about Draco’s silky white skin burning under the harsh sun.

“I brought us dinner.” Draco said after a while of them sitting quietly together. “The house elves helped of course.” He added sheepishly. Warmth swelled in Harry’s chest. It was unlike Draco to go to such lengths, but Harry appreciated the rare occasions when he did.

“It can wait a while,” Harry mused, letting his eyes close again. One day maybe he’d get to sleep a whole night with Draco pressed against his side like this. One day. Even though Harry enjoyed not feeling like he had to speak when he was around Draco, after a while he started to suspect something was off. Draco’s shoulders where still too tense, his breathing not quite even. A sliver of doubt crept into Harry’s mind. Was this not what Draco wanted?

“What’s all this about?” Harry asked him. Draco didn’t answer at first, and a knot formed in Harry’s stomach as he thought he’d said something wrong. What if this was a ‘sorry we can’t be friends’ picnic or a ‘this was a mistake and I don’t really like you’ picnic? Harry’s palms started to sweat, but he realised if it was anything like that the chances of Draco sitting with him like this would be slim.

“Does it have to be about something?”

“It’s you. And you’re a Slytherin. So yes.” Harry adored it when he got to see the affectionate side of Draco, but he also knew that it didn’t make an appearance without a reason.

“I-”

Harry waited patiently. “You can talk to me, you know. We’re friends, right? I won’t judge you.” Draco sat up and looked at him sharply. His grey eyes glittering, his hair shining so blond it was almost white. He looked ethereal like that, as if the sun that broke through the willow branches was lighting him up like a beacon so that Harry couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Up this close Harry could see the dusting of freckles across Draco’s cheeks and nose and he desperately wanted to touch them.

There was a beat of silence before Draco was the one to reach out and run his fingers across Harry’s cheek. His fingertips were impossibly cool despite the blistering heat and Harry thought he might forget how to breathe.

“Friends?” Draco whispered, his face mere inches from Harry’s. His heart was thumping so wildly in his chest that he was sure it would break free. He hadn’t dared let himself think of this. Not even in the depths of the night when he woke screaming from the nightmares.

“You don’t want that?” Harry asked, his voice almost breaking. Draco’s eyes flickered from Harry’s eyes to his lips and back again and Harry couldn’t help but lean in just a little closer.

“I want-” Harry couldn’t bear not to touch Draco. He looked anything but that confident figure leaning against the wall of the Transfiguration corridor. He seemed scared. Before he could stop it, Harry was reaching out and brushing his thumb gently over Draco’s lower lip.

The air between them had changed. It was no longer thick with humidity, instead holding the promise of new territory. At first neither of them moved any closer, but they didn’t move away either.

“What do you want, Draco?” Harry whispered. All the breath escaped Harry’s lungs when Draco shivered. It couldn’t have been from the cold.

“Are you going to make me say it?” The way Draco’s lips moved as he enunciated every syllable was mesmerising; they were full and the perfect shade of dusky pink.

“Yes.”

Their eyes met once more. “I want you to kiss me.” The steady determination in his voice as he said it broke something in Harry and leant forwards and captured Draco’s lips hungrily. He imagined this was what sunshine would taste like if such a thing were possible. A different kind of warmth flooded through Harry as Draco met his kiss with equal fervour. Somewhere in the back of Harry’s mind he had half expected Draco to be a tentative kisser, although he should have known better.

He wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist and tugged him over so that he straddled Harry. The kiss was feverous and when Draco’s fingers wound their way into Harry’s hair an unsolicited moan escaped him.

It was then that Draco drew back. “Not here,” he said, “not like this.” He was panting for breath and Harry could only nod in agreement, unable to form words at all. Draco’s head dropped and their foreheads pressed together. Harry closed his eyes and marvellous at the pure luxury of being allowed to touch Draco like that. Of being the person allowed past his walls.

“Funny kind of friends,” Harry said when he finally found his voice again. He was surprised when Draco pressed another quick kiss to Harry’s lips and climbed off him to settle back against his chest like before.

“Idiot.”

Harry could hear the laughter in Draco’s voice and couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Draco’s picnic went uneaten until well after dark, neither of them wanted to untangle themselves from the other.

The next morning the entire castle was buzzing with the gossip that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy spent the night outside together. Some said they duelled by moonlight, others said they had a midnight quidditch match. Professor McGonagall put an end to the rumours when they moved on from duelling and turned into a different kind of wand fight.

But only Harry and Draco know what really happened.


End file.
